


The Path of Most Resistance

by luxover



Series: The Distance Between Two Bodies [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxover/pseuds/luxover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re in Gran Canaria, have been for the past two weeks or so, and Villa thinks it’s crazy how fast time has gone by, how tomorrow they’ve got to get on a plane and go their separate ways again. He never thought he’d live to see it, but <i>fuck,</i> he doesn’t want the season to start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path of Most Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> A coda to The Distance Between Two Bodies, as requested by [krisseems](http://krisseems.livejournal.com/) over at a [prompt post on lj.](http://luxover.livejournal.com/26577.html)

They’re in Gran Canaria, have been for the past two weeks or so, and Villa thinks it’s crazy how fast time has gone by, how tomorrow they’ve got to get on a plane and go their separate ways again. He never thought he’d live to see it, but  _fuck,_  he doesn’t want the season to start.  
  
“Don’t forget to take off your flip-flops,” Silva says over his shoulder, “or you’ll lose them in the sand.” He’s not wearing a shirt, just swim trunks, and Villa watches the line of his back as he heads down one of the dunes at Las Dunas de Maspalomas. It’s hot out, and Silva’s hair is matted to the back of his neck with sweat.  
  
“I know,” Villa says, but really he hadn’t even thought about it. He reaches down, struggles to grab his flip-flops while still walking. “It’s not like it’s my first time—fuck! Oh,  _fuck,_  the sand is hot.”   
  
Silva laughs.  
  
“What, Guaje?” he says, clearly making fun. “I thought it wasn’t your first time.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Villa rolls his eyes.  
  
He follows Silva down the first huge dune, their bare feet sinking into the sand, and it’s fucking empty where they are, no other people, just sand as far as he can see, the shore somewhere just beyond that. He thinks, for a second, that this is all he needs: just him and Silva and nothing else, but then he brushes the thought aside; it’s pretty fucking stupid.  
  
When they reach the bottom of the dune, Villa drops his flip-flops onto the sand and leans forward, placing a kiss that turns into a bite on Silva’s shoulder. Silva shifts closer and Villa smiles.  
  
“What?” Silva asks.  
  
“We’re outside,” Villa tells him, like it wasn’t obvious enough. They’re at the bottom of a bowl of dunes, nothing but a wall of sand built up around them and the sky above, and even if there were other people, no one would see them. It’s not exactly exhibitionism, but he and Silva are private about those sorts of things, and careful.  
  
Silva doesn’t ask Villa what he means; he knows already—shit, Silva knows everything about Villa—and instead he throws himself onto the ground, lies there with his eyes closed like the hot sand doesn’t bother him.  
  
Villa mimics him, lies down carefully next to him, close enough that their shoulders overlap. He nudges Silva’s knee with his own and says, “Move over.”  
  
“Always the path of most resistance, with you,” Silva says, and he laughs a little, but he does move, shifts over until he’s on his side, propped up on his elbow as he looks at Villa. He doesn’t say anything.  
  
“What?” Villa asks.  
  
“Nothing,” Silva says. He smiles just a little and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Just gonna miss you, that’s all.”  
  
“Shut the fuck up,” Villa says, but they both know what he really means by that. And then, “I can’t believe it’s been two years already.”  
  
“I know,” Silva says, and he leans in, kisses Villa on the mouth and Villa kisses back. And he really can’t believe it, that it’s been two  _years_  of this, of them only being together during vacations and of talking on the phone too much and seeing each other not enough. A part of him doesn’t know how he’ll be able to get through another twelve months of that, and then another and another and another, until they both retire, but compared to the alternative of being without Silva at all, Villa doesn’t think it’s much of a choice.  
  
They lie there for a little bit longer, until they’re both so hot that they decide to go head to the ocean. Sand sticks to Silva’s body when he gets up, and Villa can’t help but stare; he wants to touch Silva all over, but settles for brushing his fingertips across Silva’s stomach when they’re both in the water.


End file.
